


I Think I Might Have Inhaled You

by Jenye



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenye/pseuds/Jenye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thick glass between her and them mutes their laughter, but their smiles are all she needs to see to imagine the ring their giggles make in the cold air.  Joy.  For a long time she wasn’t sure the universe possessed such an emotion anymore; at least not one that was meant to last for any length of time.  That had always been her experience — if she felt the illusive feeling it was soon followed with a sucker punch of disappointment and anguish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I Might Have Inhaled You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so have you guys read hawthornewhisperer’s amazing King Roan x Raven Reyes fic, Watch The Queen Conquer? You probably have, because it’s causing quite a stir. And if you haven’t stop what you’re doing, no seriously, don’t even read this fic. GO READ THAT ONE. It’s something of a work of art. Anyway, that got me thinking about how badly I need these two to be together & they haven’t even met yet. So I had to write about it. Consider this a writing exercise..because I haven’t truly written for either of these two in a main character setting. I’m not crazy impressed with it, but the King Raven/Ice Mechanic fic section needs to grow. Sooo, consider this my lame contribution.
> 
> P.S. - the tense does change from present to past a couple of times during the beginning due to some backstory. Terribly sorry if it gets confusing. Hope you enjoy!

Snow falls quietly through the night air and she watches as the city below — the place she now calls home — begins to be covered in a fresh layer.  A layer to add to the multitude of inches they’ve already received this week alone.  She remembers when she first got to earth; the first time she saw snow.  Their childlike excitement had soon turned to despair when they realized they had little defense (or true knowledge) against the cold, the illnesses, or the treacherous winds.  And they weren’t even _in_ Azgeda.  That first snow would have been nothing more than a mild autumn day here.

She pauses in her slow walk when she notices several children below, tossing snowballs back and forth in the streets.  The thick glass between her and them mutes their laughter, but their smiles are all she needs to see to imagine the ring their giggles make in the cold air.   _Joy_.  The sight triggers her memories and her thoughts begin to run away with her.

For a long time she wasn’t sure the universe possessed such an emotion anymore; at least not one that was meant to last for any length of time.  That had always been her experience — if she felt the illusive feeling it was usually soon followed with a sucker punch by disappointment and anguish.

Life on the ground had almost been as filled with pain as life on the Ark, except on the Ark she’d had Finn.  He was her family, making sure she didn’t go through it alone.  The ground took him from her – even before his death; it was painfully obvious he was no longer hers.

The ground has taken a lot from her.  Her hand grazes over her brace at the thought; she glances toward the floor where she rests most of her weight on her good leg.

She nearly let her fury destroy her.  She became a vessel for destruction and self-loathing because what was the point?  While the rest of the world spun around her and moved forward it always felt like she was stuck in place.  Stuck with the same tragedies, the same mishaps, and caught in the same silence.  She isn’t naïve, she knows the others had their own monsters to tackle, but it never went unnoticed that they always seemed to have _someone_ next to them through their struggles.

And yet she would fall through the cracks.

Noticing the frost gathering at edge of the windows, she brings her hand up to slide across the chilled glass.  The heat from her fingertips melts prints into the frosted surface.  The sensation is familiar to her days up in space — the outer windows were always so cold one could practically feel the subzero temperatures that threatened to break through any weakness in the Ark’s shell.

 _If we don’t kill each other first, space is always a viable option._ Finn used to say.  He argued that man wasn’t meant to live life out in such confined quarters — they’d all go mad and turn on each other.  Little did they know man wasn’t doing so well here on the ground either.  Because apparently no amount of space, resources, or whatever they hell they want was enough once you got used to said amount.  One can always have _more_.  In space there was never enough and here there is more then they could ever need and it’s still not _enough_.  And so many innocent lives are caught in the crosshairs.

Even now, she has learned enough to know peace is always temporary.  Threats are always waiting in the shadows or — more dangerously so — right in front of you.  But that is the reality and as soon as one learns to live in spite of that the better off one is.  And that’s what she’s does — on most days.  Self-pity is an ugly disease and shows itself in the worst of times.  There are days she still wishes to sink beneath her furs and disappear.  There are moments she wants to shatter across the floor for all that has been done to her.  But she has made her reality something else, something _more_.  And it is something worth overcoming for.

When her eyes land on the raised design that starts beneath the nail on her left ring finger her lips twitch.  She’s hasn’t been one to smile over such things — sentimental things — in a long time.  But the scarring is a beautiful piece of art.   _Just like you._ His words ring in her mind and make a quick route south.  The jagged edges mix with the curved sides to make for an intricate design that travels down her finger, covers most the top of her hand, and finishes by delicately wrapping around her wrist.

This had not been the first “mark” of her new life here, but it has become her favorite.  He had not forced her to do such things — like she had once assumed he would.  Her knowledge of him as a man before coming to Azgeda had been limited to that of a brutal warrior with cunning wit to overcome most enemies.  Inwardly the idea intrigued her, but the reality was he’d been the enemy, killed her people — or so she originally thought — and Clarke now wished for them to have a peace treaty with these monsters.

Allies.  That’s what they were to become.

As part of their treaty, Kane had agreed for part of Skaikru to go back to Azgeda to help progress their technical advances.  While King Roan had agreed some of his people would stay behind in Arkadia to help continue growing their knowledge on how best to survive on the ground.  It wasn’t much, but it was a start.  To prove loyalty they would begin to share their cultures.

Her, Monty, Miller, and several others packed up and made the long trip back to Azgeda.  At first, she’d been just as bitter in the strange city as she had been in Arkadia.  She hardly spoke to anyone who wasn’t from Skaikru.  When King Roan would ask for updates she’d bite his head off and had half expected him not to tolerate such outright disrespect.  But he’d simply kept eye contact with her, that cunning smirk dancing across his lips, before giving her a small bow and leaving.

Their mission had been commissioned for several weeks, almost as a test.  But soon weeks turned into months and one job turned into setting up an entire city with a distance-traveling radio communications, tracking devices, and even a citywide heating system.  All things desperately needed by this colony of people.  People she was beginning to learn.  People she was beginning to understand.  People she now has respect for.

 _Her_ people.

It soon became clear, Monty was needed back in Arkadia to help their devices and with communication systems now wired they could easily communicate.  She stayed, along with Harper and Monroe.  They weren’t the smoothest of ambassadors to have in a foreign land, but by then they had learned Azgeda did not respond well to charm and diplomacy.  King Roan and his people demanded hard work, loyalty, and results.  All things these three women could provide in spades.

She didn’t like King Roan — at first.  But she found respect for him early on in her stay.  He was not a loud ruler.  But his presence was commanded.  You wanted to be in his good graces.  Not because of wildly thrown threats or tales of his radical nature.  His power was a silent surge that ran through his veins and through the slush filled streets of Azgeda.  There were still those loyal to his mother, but most found alliance within his ranks and his standings.

Things were without incident for nearly a year before she realized this had somehow become her home.  The night ALIE’s forces attacked had been an oddly warm night.  She had used their newfound technological advances against them and managed to overtake nearly half the city before their troops were able to fight off the attack.  It was not without loss of life, but far as death tolls went on this planet, it was small.  But it was a reminder: don’t get too comfortable.

Their small home had been part of the city under siege.  Fortunately, Monroe, Harper, and herself were all without any real damage.  But they’d been trapped when buildings collapsed around them — separating her from the other two.  Due to her previous injury, she was unable to crawl out.  It had taken hours for them to locate her and it had been _him_ who literally pulled her from the wreckage.

She tried to ignore the genuine concern painted on his face as he paced around her bed in the infirmary.  Brushing it off with a smartass comment or two, when she wasn’t completely delusional with pain.

Of course he was concerned, she was their lead mechanic and they were under a technical attack.  He needed her.  She just didn’t realize how deep that statement went.  Sure, they’d build a cordial relationship throughout her stay and maybe on occasion she would push their teasing an inch further or he’d stand closer than necessary.  But there was nothing more.

Until there was.

First it was fierce arguments turned into hushed couplings atop one of her workstations.  Then it was spending nights in his quarters and skipping out before the sun came up.  Then finally he’d asked her to stay.  It was that simple, because it just _was_.  And _nothing_ had ever come that simple to her before.  She expected for the other shoe to drop at any moment.  But it never did — not with him.

The ceremony had been cloaked in tradition and crowds from all clans — something they both hated.  But he held his tongue better than she did.  Her eye roll at the details could be seen from the back row of the large ballroom.  And the rumble of his laughter, as the officiate spoke, only caused her to wish for all of this to be over so that she could have him all to herself.

Abby had cornered her soon after it was all over, asking if she had done this on her own accord.  She didn’t want her to feel trapped in something for diplomacy purposes.  It made her laugh — this was the first time she was truly doing something _for_ herself.  Sure, marriage was really not something she saw in her future, but this just made sense.  They had been partners long before either of them recognized it.

And now here she stood, nearly five years after that day.  Watching below as her reality outdid any expectations she could possibly have for her life.

Finally she continues her walk, reaching her destination slowly.  A slight sliver of light glows through the crack of the haphazardly closed door and through it she can hear the crack of a fire blazing in the familiar fireplace.  Her hand reaches up and pushes the door forward, seeing him leaning against a nearby table studying different maps and algorithms.

“Some light reading before bed, _My King_?”

His eyes flicker toward her and she nearly bursts into flames at the depth of their blue color.  She knows what game she is playing at.  And her fingers twitch at the expectations they have.  He doesn’t move from his place, but he never takes his eyes from her as she walks toward him.

At first it used to make her feel uncomfortable: his gaze — and the fact that when she moved around it was with very little grace.  Anyone eying her as she walked had always been a sore subject.  But then she realized just _how_ he watched her and the kind of expression he has.  

Like she is a treasure to be earned, not a problem to be solved.

Once she reaches her rightful spot beside him — it doesn’t go unnoticed that he instinctively leans toward her as he stares back at his studies — he points toward several different manual drawings.

  
“Skaikru is arriving tomorrow.” He states something he knows she’s already aware of. “Monty had these plans sent ahead —“

“That I looked over and modified three days ago.” She finishes, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table.  She pushes through several blueprints and finds a large map showing their traveled routes to Polis, Arkadia, and several other trade locations. “What’s with the map?”

She watches as his features drop with stress.  The crease along his forehead has expanded since the first time she met him.  And the deep lines at the ends of his brows, right before his nose starts to curve are almost always there now.  She reaches up, turning her body slightly to lean her hip against the table, and presses her thumb gently to one of those hard lines before running her the pad across his brow and down the symbol along his temple.  He glances at her and his features soften.

“The Council believes we are sitting ideally by while ALIE continues to hold the threat of destruction — or so they say.”

She watches him a moment longer before looking back down at the map, “So you figure what?  We send scouts to places they’ve already been, to check places we’ve already looked?”

Her lips twitch at the corners and she expects his expression to lighten.  But it doesn’t.  He simply stares down at the table as if he looks long enough the answer will spell itself out on the scrolls.

“They speak like they _want_ us to go to war — and I’m not sure what they expect?  I know ALIE is out there and I know it’s only a matter of time before we have to face it.   _Again_.” He runs a hand over his face. “But I know going to look for a war is not the best use of our resources, especially when we’re not even _remotely_ sure what it is we’re up against.”

The last run in they had with ALIE had hurt them, but made no comparison to the original attack.  The one that nearly took out most of the Coalition and Azgeda — they lost numerous lives all due to one man’s foolish belief that the City of Light held all the answers.  A foolish belief that even she had bought into for a moment.  Delirious over the idea of ridding herself of the pain this life had caused her.

“They think we need to strike before we are forced to show our hand.”

“Spoken like a bunch of old has-beens who’ve never been in battle.” She rolls her eyes.

A smile crosses his lips, but the expression doesn’t reach his tired eyes. “Doesn’t matter.  We’ve got to come up with a plan to at least appear progressive in our efforts.  They’ve threatened to march our soldiers across Trikru and into The Dead Zone _again_.”

She watches him, practically sees the wheels in his mind turning as he replays that scenario in his head.  He is the king.  He has final rule.  He knows this.  But she knows he doesn’t _want_ to be that kind of ruler.  He watched as his mother became a sort of one-woman dictatorship.  He wants his people to trust his decisions, not fear his wrath.

“That’s a waste of manpower.” She muses and she knows she’s stating the obvious.  He just glances over at her before looking back at the task at hand.  His shoulders are hunched and she can see the tension beneath his shirt.  He’s been this way for the past several weeks.

Finally she reaches for his hand that’s leaning against the table, picking it up so she can slide herself between him and the old wooden piece of furniture.  His thoughts immediately go to her and she can tell the way his eyes run across her that she’s got his full attention, but again his stress is etched in his features.

“There are only one person’s words that should affect the mood of my husband.” She speaks slowly, reaching up to cup her hand against his cheek. “Those are mine.”

He smiles as he leans into her hand, turning so that his lips trace along her wrist.  She feels his hands move to slowly glide along her hips, stepping closer to her as he does so.  Soon he’s looking down at her, eyes full of admiration that still makes her weak in the knees.

“I do apologize for my distracted nature, My Queen.” He mumbles as he lips are already starting to drag across her jawline. “But you must know that you invade my every thought, my very being.  At all times.”

Her eyes close and his words hit their aim true as she squirms at the sudden heat between her legs.  She bits her bottom lip and he nips at her earlobe, his fingers reaching beneath the hem of her shirt.

“Prove it.” She grins wickedly against his lips before he’s crashing into her like a hurricane into an awaiting harbor.  Her arms wrap around his neck and he gently lifts her to sit atop the table — its contents long forgotten.

“I am yours to command,” His words soak into her as he moves away long enough to tug her nightshirt off, tossing it into oblivion and coming back to greet her hungry lips. “My Queen.”

Being a queen doesn’t suit her, not in the regal, demanding sense.  She has never wished for power or glory.  But being _his_ queen?  Having this sort of power over the man who possesses her so freely?  That idea intoxicates her senses and his words only add fuel to her desire.  Her fingers tangle in the hairs at the nap of his neck, while her good leg wraps around his waist, pulling him flesh against her.  She feels his hardened cock against her inner thigh and the moan that escapes his lips is nothing short of enticing.

His lips leave hers to draw a pointed line down her jaw and onto her collarbone where another symbol is raised upon her skin.  This design moves from the base of her neck and down onto her collarbone, her first design nearly six years ago after the attack on Azgeda.  She had decided then that this place was her home — these people were just as much her people as those back in Arkadia.  

She allows his tongue to trace along the flesh there, nipping every so often, while his hand comes up to grasp her breast in the most pleasurable way.  Her heated gasp lands against his hairline as she tilts her head into him, pulling at his hair slightly.  The rumble of desire in his chest causes her to smirk quietly until he pinches at her hardened nipple.  Her lips quickly fall into an open mouth groan as her hips buck against him.

Quickly she’s reaching for the material of his shirt, signaling for him to remove his own top.  He easily takes the hint and his is joining hers to be long forgotten.  Her eyes immediately reap their reward of losing the very offensive garment.  Even in the dim firelight, the hard edges of his chest stare back at her and she watches without shame as his chest heaves with excitement.  Her fingers reach out and trace the scars and symbols that riddle his hardened skin.

“Like what you see, My Queen?” He questions, his voice deep with arousal.

She raises her eyebrow in mock question, challenging him silently.  Her fingers lower down his chest, pausing when she reaches the hold of his trousers.  Her hand slowly traces over the impressive bulge and she physically sees him react to her attention to the sensitive area.

“I think you do.” She smiles victoriously as he steps closer again, his hands pulling her to be flesh against the edge of the table.  He doesn’t hesitate to start to undo her trusty brace and she doesn’t stop him.

That used to be such a sensitive subject for her, but with him it never even seemed to matter.  They’d had an open conversation one night about what she can and cannot do for pain reasons, but besides that he never even acted like he _saw_ it.  And when he would see her own insecurities raising he would simple place a chaste kiss upon her lips and assure her of her greatness.

 _It is a part of you, My Heart.  And you are_ exquisite _— do not shy away from it._

“What is not to like?” He smiles against her lips once he has freed her leg from its support.  And before she even has a moment to feel the familiar lightness that comes with removing the helpful contraption, he is at the tie that holds her sleep pants together.  He wastes no time and she’s easily taking her queue to push her weight up on her hands momentarily as he pulls them away from her, always gentle not to disturb her hip more than necessary.

Once they are removed she is completely naked for his eyes to appraise and appraise he does.  He does nothing to hide the obvious want he has for his queen, his wife.  He looks at her as if she is his favorite dish and he is a man starved.  She bites her lip as the sheer anticipation courses through her at a renewed speed.

“You are fucking phenomenal.” He practically growls as he steps back between her legs to ravish her once more.  And she meets him in the rough, sloppy kiss.

Being connected to him skin to skin is always a moment of sensory overload for her and when she feels his fingers sliding into her dripping folds she all but sees stars.  She throws her head back, his teeth scrapping against her neck.  Two fingers enter her with ease and her hips buck in rhythm with the thrusts of his trained fingers.  Her nails scrap against his broad shoulders and she knows there will be marks there tomorrow.  The idea of him meeting with The Council and members of Skaikru with love marks just beneath his shirt gives her renewed pride.

She’s trembling under his trained hand and soon her hips can no longer hold their set pace as her orgasm washes over her in the most delicious way.  Her cries of pleasure echo off the walls without shame and she has to reach down to grasp the table edge beneath her to keep from completely losing her balance.

Her chest heaves against his and before she’s even completely through her blissful haze, she is reaching to undo his trousers, her lips dragging along his jaw as she does so.  But he doesn’t let her undo them alone, which is a good thing in her aroused state.

“What is it you want, My Queen?” He growls, knowing fully well what she wants, he’s already stepping out of his pants as he asks the question.  He just loves to hear her say it.  Needs to hear her say how much she wants — no, needs — him.

“You.” She groans, pulling him back to her and again wrapping her good leg around his own bare hip. “To fuck me.”

He enters her smoothly with one long, drawn out thrust.  Both breathing a sigh of ecstasy into each other when he’s finally buried completely in her.  The aftershocks of her first orgasm are still causing her walls to flutter and she can tell it’s easily going to be his undoing.   _Good_.  She likes for her king to be fully under her command.

But that is the slowest of their movements tonight, because this coupling is not meant for slow, patient moments of bliss.  This is truly about ravishing release and neither wants anything more.  His hips piston into her and she throws her head back in wonton pleasure.  Her mouth hangs open in silent gasps and he grips her hips with bruising pressure.  Her own hands hold onto his biceps for leverage, allowing her to greet his rhythm with her own matching one.

She knows he’s close when his hands move from her hips to up around her neck, cupping her there and pulling her into a frenzied kiss.  His motions only falter for a second before he’s grinding against her.  Her nails move to dig into his sides as their kiss softens momentarily.  They’re truly absorbed in each other.  He never stops his thrusts though and soon she’s pulling away from his lips to cry out as her second orgasm of the night rips through her with such force she draws blood where her nails are attached near his ribs.

He doesn’t seem to notice and with several more deep thrusts he’s joining her over the edge.  His growl is drowned against her shoulder as he bites down and she feels the sweat that has gathered on his brow warm her cool skin there.  She pants in their stillness, running her fingers through his damp locks.  Her leg is still wrapped around his hip; she doesn’t want him to move just yet.

Their breathing and the fire popping in the fireplace are the only things that fill the quiet room for awhile until she hears the deep rumble of his laughter against her and she finally opens her eyes to look at him.  He’s pulling away from her slightly, eyes bright with amusement.

“Care to enlighten me?” She asks, a smirk dancing along her own features.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to look at these maps and blueprints the same again.”

Her laughter is unnaturally light as she covers her face with her hands and buries it in his chest before looking around them, “I think we should share with The Council what we think of their opinions.”

He chuckles, slowly pulling completely out of her.  She whimpers at the sudden loss, but before she can truly object he’s moving to pick her up bridal style and heading for the door.  She gasps when she realizes his intent.

“Are you aware of our current state?” She says, wrapping her arm around his neck.

“I am.  But if you expect me to make it to the privacy of our bedroom before I ravish my wife once more, we best not bother getting dressed again.”

She doesn’t argue, instead simply whispers _encouraging_ words against his ear and sends a pray up to whatever gods there are that the guards on duty have fallen asleep on the job.

 

* * *

 

“Raven!” Monty acts as though he has been shot from a cannon when he jumps from the convoy.

And before she can truly react, his arms are wrapped around her in warm greeting.  She’s laughing against his shoulder, always overjoyed by his thrilled reaction.  Their embrace is strong and she only pulls away when she sees Miller walking up behind him.

“It’s only been six weeks, Mont.  You act like you haven’t seen her in years.” Miller reminds him with a good-natured smile.  Monty simply shrugs, moving to greet Harper and Monroe with near the same enthusiasm.  Miller glances back at Raven with a grin, “Good to see you are well, _Your Highness_.”

“Kiss my ass.” She greets him before pulling him into another hug.  Before she can pull away completely she sees Kane, Jasper, Abby, Clarke and Bellamy stepping out of the next vehicle.

Roan moves to greet them all with warm greetings.  They may not always be in agreement, but he sees them as true allies, even against his own council.  If anyone can help reason with this group it’s them.  Bellamy and Roan share a longer conversation than the others and it doesn’t go unnoticed that they seem to have a bond beyond that of him and the others.

“Good to see you.” Abby greets her with warm hug before moving along into the walls of their home.  Kane follows, placing a welcoming hand on Raven’s shoulder.

And then she’s standing in front of Clarke.  The blonde smirks at her and Raven just rolls her eyes, pulling her into a strong hug.  They’ve had their ups and downs, but Raven misses Clarke most of all.

“Things are good?” Raven asks, but she doesn’t have to ask.  She sees the look on the blonde’s face.  From one recently satisfied woman to another, there’s nothing needing to be said.

“Things are good.” Clarke nods and before she’s fully walked away, Jasper is squeezing his way in for a hug.

Raven knows he’ll never truly be healed — she gets that.  But after several years, he seems at least partially whole and that’s good.

“So remember when Bellamy and Clarke were doing this whole ‘will they or won’t they’ thing?  And we were taking bets?” He asks and she can almost see a splinter of the old Jasper.

“Yeah…”

“Well, the new bet is who’s going to produce us some adorably royal babies first; you and King Brood or our own Rebel King and his Princess.  You want in?  I mean it’s probably rigging it a bit if you’re in, but I’m sure Mont —“

He’s interrupted by Bellamy coming to stand behind him and clearing his throat, Jasper’s eyes go wide before he quickly pats her on the shoulder and moves along.  Raven just laughs and looks at Bellamy, “Should I get in on this bet?”

“Clarke’s already in, I think.” Bellamy chuckles. “She’s got you and Roan in about a year.”

Raven raises her eyebrows, “Me?  With kids?”

“I know.  That’s what I told her.” He agrees, “I told her you’re better with bombs than babies.”

She punches his shoulder pretty good as she sees Roan coming up to stand with them.  He’s seen their exchange and by his desired expression she can tell he’s heard their conversation.

“Shall we?” She asks, turning to head inside.

Roan’s hand drops to the small of her back as they follow their guests, “Please, let us show you the blueprints and maps just in the room up the stairs.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts?! *bites nails* Hope it wasn't too terrible.


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